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REFLECTIONS: How has the rest of your day been going?

Posted by Jack Batdorff on September 3rd, 2011

A Canadian friend of a friend of mine had a rather interesting experience back in 2001.

I can’t believe I hadn’t heard about this before, but just had to pass it on to you … as I have been through a similar experience. And it’s a hoot (after the fact!)

Here it is in all her personally written glory!

“We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He’s old now … but he came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program.

“For those of you who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking a 10 year old child about who you know nothing … and commit yourself to doing your best to be a good parent. Like a child, the pup came with his own idiosyncrasies: He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss.

“Lest you think this is a bad case of ‘no discipline,’ I should tell you that my husband and I tried every means to break him of this habit … including locking him in a separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost over $200. But let me digress.

“Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project was downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended family and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time. I was assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend.

“I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole darn house that worked, thus the assignment. I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wednesday evening and reheat Thursday a.m. Since the kitchen was freshly painted, you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for a few hours. Jerry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. The rolls were ready to go in the oven.

“It was 8:30 p.m. When I went into the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock, one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty!

“I called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury Doughboy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur.

“He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated. I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK … but I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every two hours for the rest of the night.

“God only know why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick. Suffice it to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink. He was so bloated, we had to lift him onto the bed for the night.

“We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing, put the dog out to relieve himself. He was running into walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he was walking his front half was going one direction and the other half was either dragging the grass or headed 90 degrees in another direction.

“He couldn’t lift his leg to do his duty, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our back yard, he couldn’t stop and ran into the back fence!

“His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet … call number two for the pup … and he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk. He assured me that … not unlike most binges some humans go through … it would wear off after about four or five hours and to keep feeding him Pepto Bismol.

“Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, hubby and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister’s house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day … a 15-minute drive. Rolls firmly secured in the trunk (124 minus 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Jerry and me, we took off.

“Now … I know you probably don’t believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station!

“But … that’s not the worst of it. He began to let gas … LOTS of it. We endured that for the whole 15 minute trip … and all I could think was Thank God we don’t smoke: The whole car would have exploded! And … it was rancid … and smelled like … God strike me if I am not telling the truth … like baked rolls.

“Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister’s garage … with the door locked … we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving dinner … with everyone making intermittent runs to the garage to witness my drunken dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper’s latest endeavor to walk without running into something.

“Now, there’s an old adage: what goes in must come out. Jasper was no exception.

“Granted … if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind. Alas, however, a dog’s digestive system is quite different from yours or mine … which was a mixed blessing as we prepared to leave my sister’s home. Having discovered his ‘packages’ on the garage floor, we loaded him in the car so we could hose down the floor.

“THIS was another naïve decision on our part.

“The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor … and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland Cement beginning to set up and cure.

“We finally tried to remove it with a shovel … and finally, I (no one else obviously offered their assistance as, after all, it was MY dog) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get it off the floor.

“And … as if this wasn’t degrading enough, the darn dog … in his drunken state … had walked through the poop and left very neat cement-like paw prints that likewise had to be brushed.

“Well, by this time, Jasper had sobered up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Jerry’ sister’s house.

“I am happy to report that as of the following Monday, Jasper was back to normal … both in size and temperament. He had a bath and no longer was tricolor … and none the worse for wear … I assume. I am also happy to report that that Monday (today) I found two risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door.

“It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them but decided hiding two of them for later would not be a bad idea. Now I’m doing research on the computer as to ‘How to clean unbaked dough from the carpet.’

“And how was your day?”

Absolutely love it!

Many years ago in a former life, I was co-owner of a female Afghan hound. It was my wife’s. And it (the dog) was bull headed, blond and stupid (my words).

We had just finished getting some dough ready for baking … and had set it outside on the swimming pool dive board to rise … figuring it would get full sun … and nothing would bother it.

Wrong.

We forget we left it there and went to do some errands downtown.

When we got back, we remembered the rising dough and ran outside: the pan was empty … and the pooch was rolling around in agony.

We didn’t use Pepto … didn’t know that was an option … but I DID call vet Gordy and asked him what to do. He laughed too … and just said to wait it out.

By evening the pup was drunk as a cross eyed skunk on steroids. Bouncing off everything! And in total misery!

By morning, it was all over. She never ate another biscuit … baked or unbaked … for the rest of her life. Just turned her nose up!

Think she might have learned her lesson.

(Served her right, though. My mouth had been watering all day for home baked bread!)